


Thank the Seven for Little Girls

by PersephoneBlck



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 08:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12186909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersephoneBlck/pseuds/PersephoneBlck
Summary: The Hound faces off with the Mountain and gets some help





	Thank the Seven for Little Girls

**Author's Note:**

> A quick write up of a random thought that struck me while I should have been getting ready for work.

An undead fucker was going to be the end of him.  
He had survived a horde of them by flying away on a dragon’s back. There were no dragons to climb here, and thankfully no horde.  
Just his fucking undead, ugly monster of a brother.  
It was always going to be the two of them he knew.

They had hated each other for as long as he could remember, but he had never hated the fucker as much as he had hated him now.

That blonde cunt of a Queen had send her best fighter to retrieve her wayward brother from Winterfell and to kill Sansa.  
Two birds with one stone.  
His little bird, like hell he was going to let this fucker anywhere near her.

She had called him awful once when she was still a little girl with dreams of a noble knight to save her.  
She was the Lady of Winterfell now.  
He had stood aside when a monster had hurt her already, but he would not do so again.

He needed to kill the fucker, or at least weaken him enough for Brienne of Tarth.  
Thank the Seven Brienne was currently protecting Sansa on the inside of the Castle. If there was someone that had a shot at killing the Mountain it was her.  
Sandor knew that she would, or die trying.  
Which was looking like what he was going to do, die trying to protect his little bird.  
Her flaming red hair, her sweet face.  
He could never be with her, but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t look at her. It was enough for an ugly dog like him. To bask near her, to look after her.  
To redeem himself for his past failures.

He liked that she had grown up and gotten smarter, it suited her.

Fucking hell, he needed to stop thinking of the pretty bird and try to kill this fucker.  
The clanging of swords and grunts filled the air.  
A mighty shove, and he found himself on the mud.

Let it be quick he thought, he didn’t want to scream and scare his little bird or give the fucker the satisfaction of torturing him.  
The sound of hooves distracted the Mountain from striking the final blow.  
The riders were small, too small.  
Sandor recognized them both, no mistaking those two pint sized terrors.  
Lyanna Mormont shot an arrow at the back of his brother’s knee, one of the few places that were not covered with armor. Then another at the hand that the Mountain was currently using to stay upright.  
Half kneeling on the floor, and trying to reach out with his free hand at the Bear Lady’s horse, he growled.

The fucker hadn’t said a word, but he could apparently still growl his frustrations, Arya was fast on a horse on his other side. The mountain hadn’t seen her coming. Helmets protected your head but limited your vision  
She swung a miniature version of Gendry’s ax and managed to knock off the Mountain helmet.

“By the Seven, you are even uglier than me now!” he screamed at his brother.  
With all the effort that it had taken him to stand back up, he knew he had one shot, and he took his brother’s ugly head clean off his miserable shoulders, and ended it for them.  
“We’ll set him on fire, outside the castle. No need to bring him in” Lyanna Mormont commanded to one of her men that were coming out of Winterfell, the men looked ashamed that they had not ridden to aid the Hound

The Hound didn’t give a fuck that he had been rescued by two women, he was just happy to still be alive.  
They would share the glory in killing the Mountain, the monster that had terrorized so many during his life had met his end with two highborn ladies.  
He would sleep well tonight, and recover.

He looked skyward and thanked the Seven for little girls.


End file.
